A Smirk is Worth a Thousand Words
by Captain Crash Helmet
Summary: The Slytherin Quidditch Team find out a secret to Draco's past and bet him to go to a dance with Hermione Granger, or else they will tell the whole school. When he starts to develop a liking for her, will he risk his pride to avoid hurting her feelings?
1. Chapter 1: Resident Bad Boy Gone Soft

Desrosiers: The idea for this story has been lingering around my mind for a good few months. Finally got 'round to writing it. Enjoy! R&R, flames will be used to light your shorts on fire.  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own any characters, only the story. Yadda yadda yadda.

**A Smirk is Worth a Thousand Words - Chapter One: Resident Bad Boy Gone Soft**

****   
  
Draco cringed as he approached Hermione. Was he really going to do this? He took a deep breath and took another step. He realized in a matter of seconds that he was four feet away from her spot beside the Great Hall fireplace.  
  
She was getting an early start on studying for end of the year exams, and was surrounded with books all turned to various pages.  
  
Draco took another deep breath and tried to calm his nerves.  
  
"Hermione...?" He croaked. 'I'm going insane...' he thought.  
  
"What is it, Malfoy?" Hermione answered sighing, not taking her eyes off of the book in front of her.  
  
"I know what the answer is going to be...but you know that end of term dance that's coming up?" He gulped. No. This was just way too weird.  
  
"Hm." Hermione mumbled, flipping a few pages.  
  
"Well...I was wond--"  
  
"You better make this quick. I'm really busy and I don't have time to listen to slime balls like you." Hermione interrupted.  
  
"I..um..." he searched for another subject, "Get a hair cut, mudblood. Your hair looks like Filch's cat." He snickered at his quick thinking.  
  
"Was that all?" She asked, spitefully, closing a few of her books and collecting some papers, already used to insults like this from him.  
  
Draco tried to answer, but Hermione had already gathered the remainder of her things and was walking out the door.  
  
Draco slapped his hand to his forehead and sighed. Another opportunity missed.  
  
He turned on his heals and headed for the Slytherin dungeons.  
  
As soon as Draco arrived, Crabbe jumped out of his spot on the sofa and ran over to him.  
  
"Well? Did you?" He asked, eagerly.  
  
"Not yet, don't rush me." Draco huffed and took a spot on the sofa, shoving a few Slytherins out of the way.  
  
"You better hurry yourself up. The whole Quidditch team is waiting for this." Crabbe said.  
  
"I know, I know! It's just..she's...a mudblood. If my father ever found out..."  
  
"But you know what happens if you don't go through with it...Flint tells the whole school that you used to do ballet."  
  
"Hush, I know!" Draco huffed and went up to his dorm.  
  
He flopped down on his bed, and laid his head down on his pillow. He let out a long sigh, and was about to fall asleep, when a few Slytherin boys burst through the archway. He soon realized it was half of the Quidditch team.  
  
"Do you think he's going to go through with it?" He heard Marcus Flint whisper.  
  
"Not sure. The boy has a lot of pride..." Another boy said.  
  
"Yea, I guess we'll just have to wait and see. He better ask her soon, the dance is only 3 weeks away..." Flint grunted. Draco could hear him rummaging in someone's trunk. "Aha! Here it is. Let's go polish our brooms."  
  
There was a mumble of agreement, and the team shuffled out of the dorm, not noticing Draco at all.  
  
Draco thought the whole thing was cruel, and that was saying a lot. They had found out somehow from Draco's mother, Narcissa that he used to take ballet class. Draco understood that because she talked endlessly about his accomplishments. She had signed him up for a ballet class with her, because he was too young to stay home alone while his father was working. Narcissa would take him with her every Saturday morning, and come back a few hours later. Narcissa considered it fun. Draco, on the other hand, considered it murder.  
  
Why on earth did the team have to think of blackmail? Oh. Right. They were Slytherins. If it were happening to anyone else other than Draco, he would have been enjoying this to the highest limit.  
  
But it wasn't happening to anyone else. It was happening to him. Draco Malfoy – Resident Bad Boy, gone soft. 


	2. Chapter 2: Boiling Blood

Desrosiers: Sorry about the wait guys! Been busy with my HP Message Board: http:www.veritaserum.us.tt. Check it out if you want to! Now, on with the story. Thank you so much to all my reviewers, your kind words mean a lot to me. This chapter is dedicated to you guys!

**A Smirk is Worth a Thousand Words - Chapter 2: Boiling Blood**

Draco could hear the faint beeping sound of his alarm, and pulled the pillow tighter over his ears. He had to avoid this as long as he could, even if it meant spending his life in his bed.  
  
He knew he had to face it sometime, and the longer he put it off, the harder it rained down on him. He had spent the weekend in bed, and today being Monday, he would have to go to classes.  
  
Draco slowly slid the pillow off of his head, the light flooding his eyes as though someone had stuck a flashlight in the back of his head. He groaned loudly, ripped the sheets off him, and tumbled out of bed.  
  
The moment he stepped foot on the cold wood floor, he felt as is a brick had been plummeted into his stomach. Something Draco had never felt before, something he saw almost everyday, but never had it occurred to him what it felt like. Draco Malfoy was scared.  
  
-----------------------------------  
  
15 minutes later, he was sitting at the Slytherin table, completely silent, trying to avoid the Quidditch Team's glares. Every now and then, there were a few sniggers, and pointing fingers, but Draco kept his gaze down at his toast. The toast seemed to get extremely boring after a while, and to Draco's relief, the school bell rang, signaling the start of the first class that day.  
  
Draco rushed off to Care of Magical Creatures, looking over his shoulder every now and then for the Slytherins. He picked up the pace, running faster and faster down the steps and onto the grounds, his head still facing the opposite way looking for his other house members.  
  
He hadn't seen it coming—He smacked right into Harry and they both stumbled to the floor.  
  
"Watch where you're going, Potter." Draco growled, heaving himself off the floor and not bothering to help Harry up, as it usually was.  
  
Draco brushed off his robes, and looked over Harry's shoulder. The Slytherins were coming.  
  
Draco's eyes bulged and he ran for Hagrid's hut as fast as he could, his feet splattering all over the damp grass.  
  
Now if you were a bystander watching this, and you knew of Draco's reputation, then you would be extremely confused by now. Draco was rushing to the one class he complained the most about, to the teacher he considered unworthy to be given such a title, and to the people he dispised the most – Gryffindors. But Draco ran faster, his feet pounding against the ground, as he picked up his pace even more. I mean, this boy could win a marathon they way he was going.  
  
He had to get there first. He had to stay out of view. Draco slowed down to a jog as he neared Hagrids hut.  
  
Panting, he slammed his bag down on the floor and slumped down beside it. And then he heard it.  
  
"Oi, twinkle toes!" He could hear the Slytherins snickering and whispering among themselves.  
  
Draco let out a long sigh, and heaved himself off the ground, turning to face Flint.  
  
"You wanna run that by me again, bucktooth?" Draco gave him the coldest look anyone could ever receive. If looks could only kill, Draco kept repeating to himself.  
  
"Ohhh, getting a little heated now, twinkletoes?  
  
"The name is Malfoy. Draco. Malfoy."  
  
"Oh, must we curse, twinketoes? Don't think you can handle the pressure?"  
  
"I can handle a bloody well lot more than you think I can, Flint." Draco could feel the blood pumping through his veins.  
  
"Oh, is that right?" Flint gave a toothy smile, exposing his disgustingly crooked teeth.  
  
"Yes." Draco gritted his teeth as his blood pumped even harder. He clenched his fist as tight as they would go, and he could feel his fingernails digging into his flesh.  
  
"Aw, am I pissing little twinkle toes off?" Flint smirked and crossed his arms. "Does little twinky want daddy?"  
  
Draco could swear his face was probably purple. "Get out of here Flint. This isn't your class."  
  
"Oh, but I wanted to stay and watch you squirm." Flint put on his best pouting face, but apparently couldn't hold it for long. He snickered and fought to keep his mouth shut, but, he burst out laughing. The Slytherin Quidditch team being his minions, they followed suit.  
  
For once in his life, Draco felt relief to hear Hagrid's voice beginning class.  
  
"Flint, what'er ya doin' here? Get ter class."  
  
That was the first time Draco had ever heard a stern word come out of Hagrid's mouth, and at the time, was very glad of it.  
  
Flint shot one last warning look at Draco, and shuffled off with the rest of the Quidditch Team.  
  
Draco sank to the back of the crowd to watch the lesson. He appeared to be watching Hagrid, but was secretly consumed in his 'drama.'  
  
What if it didn't work out? What if he didn't go to the dance with Hermione? Worst off, what if his father found out?  
  
It was times like these when Draco wished he hadn't snickered all through Snape's lesson of love potions. He actually needed it.  
  
Draco sighed loudly, receiving looks from surrounding house mates.  
  
As much as he hated to admit it, Draco needed help. And there was only one person who could help him.  
  
Harry Potter. 


	3. Chapter 3: A Violent Plea for Help

Desrosiers: This is getting so fun. :) Enjoy guys, and thanks to all my reviewers! You guys rule!

**A Smirk is Worth a Thousand Words - Chapter 3: A Violent Plea for Help**

Draco stared eagerly at the old fashioned clock on the wall. He could just about hear the faint mumbles of Professor Binns talking about witch burnings. Again. He seemed to like that subject.  
  
Draco let out a moan of anxiety, as he counted down the seconds to signal the end of his classes for the day.  
  
59...58...57...  
  
This is just getting stupid, Draco thought.  
  
53...52...53...54...  
  
Wait, what the hell? Draco did a double take at the clock. It was going backwards.  
  
He sighed heavily and put his head in his hands. Come on....ring already.. Draco glanced at the clock again.  
  
37...36...35...  
  
He began to tap his feet on the ground. on...  
  
23...22...21...20...19...  
  
Almost there... Draco was hardly blinking anymore. He had to get out of this class. He had to talk to Harry. Draco shivered at the thought. Civilised conversation with Potter. Ugh.  
  
6...5...4...3...  
  
Draco shoved his book in his bag, swung it over his shoulder, and shot out of the classroom, just as the bell rang.  
  
Damn, what class does he have last on Monday...? Draco ran his hand through his hair. Trewlawney. Draco hated that class, that woman was seriously medicated.  
  
Draco ran all the way up the stairs and up the trap door to the classroom, where he bumped into Harry just leaving.  
  
"Potter!" Draco heaved. "A word?"  
  
Harry raised an eyebrow and looked around, to make sure Draco was talking to him.  
  
"What are you playing at, Malfoy?" Harry gave him a questioning but stern look.  
  
"I need a word. NOW, Potter." Draco grabbed Harry's wrist and jumped down from the trap door, and around a corner so dark, that Harry couldn't even see his shoes.  
  
"What the hell is going on?" Harry spat, as Draco chucked him to the wall.  
  
"I..I.." Draco just couldn't bring himself to say it. He took a deep breath, "I need your help."  
  
Harry looked quite taken aback. "Ha, forget it! I wouldn't even piss on you if you were on fire!" Harry turned to walk away, but Draco seized his arm and slammed him back against the wall.  
  
"I MEAN IT POTTER! I NEED your help." Draco stated forcefully, gripping tightly to the collar of Harry's robes. Harry struggled a bit, and tried to escape Draco's strong grip. But failed.  
  
Just then, Cho walked past their little corner, and Draco's eyes shifted from Harry to her. He had an idea.  
  
"Say, Potter. Cho is looking quite good today." Draco tried so hard not to break character. "What do you say, we make a deal?" Draco stumbled on his words a bit, and loosened his grip on Harry's robes. This just wasn't fair.  
  
"With you? Are you mental?" Harry raised both his eyebrows and started to walk away again.  
  
"Potter. Don't make me get violent." Draco slammed Harry back up against the wall once again, as Harry let out a moan.  
  
"You..don't call...this violent?" Harry asked, panting and struggling.  
  
"I mean it. I help you, you help me. One time only." Draco couldn't believe he was fraternizing with the enemy.  
  
"And how are you going to help me?" Harry said hotly. "You could help a chicken cross a highway."  
  
Draco opened his mouth as to say something insulting, but closed it, remembering the plan.  
  
"Look, Potter. You like Cho. I can tell."  
  
Harry's mouth fell open.  
  
"I will help you with your little girl problem, if you help me with mine." Draco said through gritted teeth. "Do we have a deal?" "I...adda..wibba...how'd you find out!?" Harry's eyes widened.  
  
"That's not the point, Potter. Do we have a deal?"  
  
"I..Let me get this straight." Harry squirmed beneath Draco's tight grip. "You want me, to help you, with a girl problem?" Harry laughed. "After all the things you've done to me?"  
  
A few passing students were now staring at all the noise they were making.  
  
Draco's eyes were burning with hatred. "Do. We have. A deal?" He could swear his teeth were going to fly right out of his mouth; he was grinding them so hard.  
  
Harry looked Draco directly in his eyes. Draco was serious. Harry sighed. "How exactly are you going to help me?"  
  
Draco gave a smirk. He was finally getting through. "I put in the good word with Cho for you. You know, get her interested."  
  
"Nice try." Said Harry. Draco's heart sank at these words. "But Cho wouldn't listen to you if you paid her."  
  
"I have ways, Potter." Draco took a deep breath. "P..please?"  
  
Harry looked astonished to hear Draco ask nicely. What on earth was going on with him? Harry looked down at the floor. He liked Cho a lot, but did he like her enough to help Malfoy?  
  
Harry looked up from the floor and into Draco's piercing stare. "Fine."  
  
Draco smiled. He had done it. He had a way with words indeed.  
  
"Who's the girl?" Harry raised an eyebrow. 


	4. Chapter 4: Cold Breath and Cold Hearts

Desrosiers: I must say, I'm really enjoying writing this story. Good fun. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I love writing it! And thank you to my faithful reviewers that have stuck with me throughout the story! You guys own!  
  
Now, on with the chappie.   
  


**A Smirk is Worth a Thousand Words - Chapter 4: Cold Breath and Cold Hearts  
**

  
"Who's the girl?" Harry asked again after several seconds.  
  
Draco hadn't thought of that. What was he going to say? 'Oh I need help with getting Hermione to go to the dance with me?' Yeah right.  
  
"Oh..just some girl." Draco looked down at the floor, and then back up at Harry.  
  
"Well, how am I supposed to help you," Harry shivered at the thought, "if you won't tell me who the girl is?"  
  
Draco's piercing stared flickered a bit, and was now a sympathetic gaze.  
  
"I..I can't tell you."  
  
Harry snorted. "Then I can't help you." He gave Draco one last confused look, and turned the corner.  
  
"Pott--"  
  
"I can't help you, Draco." Harry whispered from around the corner.  
  
Draco slumped to the floor in the dark corner and let his head bang against the hard brick wall. Great. Just great. His only hope, the only person who could probably help him, had just walked away.  
  
He spent a good few hours just sitting in the corner thinking, before he got up and went to his dorm. He didn't want to resort to such actions, but he now realized, for once in his life, that he would have to get out of this mess himself.  
  
He did nothing but pace backwards and forwards in the same spot for half an hour after arriving back at his dorm.  
  
"Draco, if you drag your feet on that spot any longer, you're going to fall right through it." Blaise Zabini said flatly, not taking his eyes off of The Daily Prophet.  
  
"Shut up, wanker." Draco hissed, still pacing and staring down at the floor.  
  
Blaise gave a loud grunt, got up off his bed and left the dorm, leaving Draco alone.  
  
He would have to make a move sooner or later. But there was just one problem. He hated her, and she hated him. Ugh.  
  
Draco's eyes landed on his cloak. He would have to do it. He would have to work his "boyish charm" [insert giggles here] to get Hermione to the dance.  
  
Draco grabbed his cloak and sped out his dorm, down to the common room, and out into the dungeons. His footsteps echoed and bounced off the walls as he ran faster down the dark hallway.  
  
Finally reaching the light end of the castle, Draco slowed down to a jog, and looked around the entrance hall for a sign of Hermione. Nothing.  
  
Draco sighed. His face lit up as he looked at the skin coat sitting on the stairway. Hagrid.  
  
He left the entrance hall and headed out onto the grounds. He could barely see the Quidditch Pitch in the distance, as the fog was so thick. He could barely even see the tree 4 feet in front of him.  
  
He could see the woods, but not Hagrid's cabin. 'It has to be somewhere around here' Draco thought, cupping his eyes in his hands and trying to see through the fog.  
  
Stupidest thing he'd ever done. Draco started running towards the woods to get a closer look, and in the process, smacked right into a tree.  
  
He let out a yell and fell backwards onto the cold, snow ridden ground. He tried to clear his vision by rubbing his eyes, but it wasn't helping at all. He sighed, closed his eyes, and let his head hit the ground with a thump.  
  
This sucked.  
  
He could hear snickers in the distance, or maybe it just sounded distant because he really hadn't regained his senses yet. Draco opened his eyes slowly, and what came next, he could have never prepared for.  
  
Hermione, Ron and Harry were standing over him, not bothering to hide their laughter.  
  
Draco groaned and closed his eyes again, pretending he hadn't saw that. Just what he needed.  
  
After a while, Draco heard their laughing fade, and opened one eye. He checked the area and could just see the retreating backs of Potter and his 'gang.'  
  
He stood up and brushed the snow off his robes.  
  
"Ah, I left my cloak at Hagrid's! You guys go ahead, save a spot for me at dinner!" Draco heard Hermione in the distance.  
  
Draco spun around and saw Hermione running his way.  
  
Now's your chance, Draco. Do something impressive.  
  
Hermione shot past him, shivering and muttering to herself.  
  
"Granger!!" Draco yelled after Hermione, running up to her. "Here." He said coldy, as he took his cloak off his own warm body, and shoved it at Hermione.  
  
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Is this some sort of joke? Is this what you do for fun? Put charms on cloaks and give them to innocent bystanders?" Her voice was shaking as she was so cold.  
  
"No! No..no no. You..you just look cold, and it would save you the trip back to the oaf's house." Draco's voice shaked. Not because he was cold, but because of the sheer fact that he was associating with the very thing his family lived to despise.  
  
"Are..are you feeling ok?" Hermione looked extremely skeptical, and who could blame her. "No thanks." Hermione pushed away Draco's hand and ran off to Hagrid's hut, shaking her head in disbelief.  
  
"P..please, take it?" Draco yelled after her.  
  
Hermione stopped dead. "Did you just say please?"  
  
"N..no." Draco looked at the floor. "'Course not."  
  
Hermione walked back up to him, shivering. She snatched the cloak from his hands, wrapped it around her, and walked back to the castle with not so much as a thank you.  
  
Draco huffed. "Last time I'm doing that." He made his way back to the castle slowly, imagining the look on the Slytherins' faces if he walked in with Hermione.  
  
Oh yea. He was going to regret this in the morning. 


	5. Chapter 5: Lemon Pudding and PMS

Desrosiers: Thank you to my reviewers for your kind words! They mean so much. Anywho, on with the chappie. Sorry, it's a little short, I just wanted to get it up so I could start on the longer 6th chapter. Enjoy!

**A Smirk is Worth a Thousand Words - Chapter 5: Lemon Pudding and PMS**

Hermione sat down at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, and began piling food onto her plate, not saying a word.  
  
"So, I take it you've gotten sick of spew? Again?" Ron turned to Hermione, trying to suppress a giggle.  
  
Hermione gave Ron a warning look, and continued piling mashed potatoes on her plate by the gallon.  
  
"Hermione, are you okay?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "You seem...quiet. And hungry."  
  
"I'm fine." Hermione said quickly, as she shoved a spoonful of steak and kidney pie in her mouth. "Just..just a little stressed. Ya know, from exams."  
  
"Hermione, exams are 3 months away. You can relax." Ron grabbed a roll from the tower of bread in front of him, causing a few rolls to topple from the top onto Neville's head. "Oh, sorry Neville."  
  
"Seriously Hermione, you look ill." Harry had concern in his eyes, while Ron was just concerned at the fact that Hermione had poured all the gravy onto her plate, leaving him none. "I'm fine, Harry." Hermione sighed.  
  
"Sorry, you just look, erm...different.." Harry gave her a questioning look. "Did you change your hair or something?"  
  
Hermione's eyes flicked down to Draco's cloak around her. Her eyes went wide as she tried subtly to cover up the Slytherin emblem with a strand of her curly hair.  
  
"What'er you doin'?" Ron said through a mouthful of chicken stuffing. "You ok?" Ron swallowed.  
  
"FINE." Hermione started to get frustrated, but leaned her head sideways so her hair would cover the whole of the emblem. "I'm fine."  
  
Harry raised an eyebrow. He was not buying this at all, and the look on his face showed it. "You're not fine, Hermione."  
  
Hermione jumped up, her hair hiding the emblem flying off her shoulder. "Who are you to tell me if I'm fine or not!?"  
  
"No, Hermione, that's not what I---"  
  
"Oh no. That's not what you mean, huh? Then why did you say it? What, I can't take care of myself? Is that it?" Hermione huffed and stormed off, causing disgruntled looks from surrounding students.  
  
Harry turned to Ron. "What's up with her?" He looked truly shooken.  
  
Ron shrugged. "PMS, I 'spose."  
  
Harry wrinkled his brow at the sound of "girl talk" and proceeded to stuff his face with lemon pudding.  
  
"Wait. Was her cloak...green?" Harry lowered his spoon from his mouth and looked at Ron.  
  
"Na..." They both laughed and continued eating, flinging globs of pudding at one another occasionally.  
  
..........  
  
Hermione flung herself onto her dorm bed, and let out long sigh. For once in her life, Draco stumped Hermione, and it was weighing her down and her off.  
  
Why did he give her his cloak? I mean, come on. It's Draco. It's not likely for him to give up one of his possessions to (dare I say it) a mudblood. It wouldn't exactly be out of the pureness of his heart, because as far as Hermione knew, Draco didn't have a heart. He was just slime.  
  
Hermione grunted to herself at the thought of Draco giving change to homeless muggles on the street. She could even laugh at the fact that it was so unlikely.  
  
She shifted her weight onto the other side of her body and sighed deeply, clutching Draco's cloak and fiddling with the embroidered emblem.  
  
Draco, to Hermione, was nothing more than a conniving, stuck up, snot nosed weasel (or Ferret, however you'd like to see it.) But for once in her life, Hermione started to believe that Draco didn't have a heart of stone.  
  
Maybe it was just made of dirt.


	6. Chapter 6: Help From a Stranger

Desrosiers: SOOO sorry for the lack of updates, but I've had quite a series of unfortunate events. One: I've been uber busy with school. Two: We got hit by a hurricane and lost power for 4 days. And three: My laptop was infected with a virus and had to be taken to be repaired. Things are all good now though, so on with the story! I've written the 7th chapter already, but I wrote it at my friend's house, so I'm awaiting her email. I will post it soon though, I hope this was worth the wait!

A Smirk is Worth a Thousand Words - Chapter 6: Help From a Stranger 

Hermione awoke to the faint tapping on her window.

She groggily raised her head from her pillow and rubbed her eyes. She yawned as she shoved off her covers and slid out of her warm bed onto the cold floor. Taking a look at the clock, she realized that classes started in 10 minutes, and she had potions first.

Her eyes went wide as she shot to the window and let in the owl that had been tapping on it for 5 minutes. The owl dropped a letter on her bed and flew back out the window, hooting happily as it flew into the cold breeze.

Hermione sped to the bathroom and came out 6 minutes later, disregarding the letter and adjusting her school tie. She took one quick look in the mirror, and shot out of the girl's dorm and out of the common room.

"Argh! Come on..!" Hermione ran down the hallway and sped around the corner. She skidded to a halt in front of Draco to avoid knocking him over (which didn't seem like such a bad thing as she thought about it). He appeared to be carrying some sort of green substance in a vial.

"Oh, the mudb—I mean...hey Hermione.." Draco ran a hand through his hair. "Late?"

Hermione snorted. "Why else would I be out here? Move, Malfoy. I'm already going to get a million points off Gryffindor for being late." She shoved past him and carried on down to the dungeons.

"Wait!" Draco ran after her. "I could...you know, save you a detention..?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean...?"

"I was sent to get this...Erm.." Draco swished the green stuff around in the vial, "..crap, and I could say I needed help looking for it.."

"You think you're so clever, huh? Snape wouldn't even buy that." Hermione shoved past him once again, and opened the door to the dungeons.

Draco stood in the middle of the dark hallway with a look of utter disgust on his face. "Fine." He spat, even though he knew Hermione couldn't hear him.

He entered potions himself to find Snape yelling at Hermione for her tardiness.

"I'm sorry, Professor." Hermione said through gritted teeth. "I woke up late."

Ron and Harry exchanged glances of disbelief.

"Is that so? Is Miss Granger loosing the knack for study?" Snape's lips curled into a devious grin of achievement. "10 points from Gryffindor, and detention. Take a seat, Granger." Snape swished his cloak and turned back to his potions cabinet.

"Sir, erm..she was..she was helping me." Draco appeared in the doorway, as Hermione's jaw dropped. 'I didn't actually think he'd go through with it...' Hermione thought.

Ron's jaw nearly hit the floor, as Harry choked on the pumpkin juice he had snuck up from breakfast.

"Mr. Malfoy..." Snape accepted the vial from Draco's hands and set it on his desk. "What's this you say?"

"...Erm...I'm the reason..she's..she's late." Draco loosened the neck of his robes and looked at Hermione. She was gripping the end of her desk so hard her knuckles were white. "I met her in the hall...and I asked, erm, I mean, told her to help me find this..this...stuff."

Snape's look of achievement turned into a glare. "Excuse me?"

"She helped me. Cancel her detention, or my father will hear about it." Draco's voice quivered.

Snape's mouth opened as if to say something, but he closed it quickly.

"Very well, Mr. Malfoy." Snape said through gritted teeth. "Granger, detention cancelled, thought the points deducted will remain the same."

Hermione stared at Draco, before looking down and taking notes on what was on the board.

Draco heaved a sigh of relief before taking a seat himself.

Hermione looked up from her notes to see Draco's eyes fixed on her. "Can I help you?" Hermione whispered slyly.

Draco blushed and turned back to face the board. He couldn't believe he was doing this.

Hermione tucked a strand of her messy hair behind her ear. What on earth was going on with him lately? 'First he lends me his cloak, and then he gets me out of detention with his head of house. What on earth?' she thought. As much as Hermione hated him, she had to admit, this was nice.

After what seemed like forever, Potions finally came to an end. Hermione picked up her books, and stuffed them in her bag. Then she remembered – Malfoy's cloak.

Hermione headed over to the door. "Malfoy!"

Draco spun around to see Hermione's red face. "Granger?"

"Um..thanks for that. And..your cloak." She took the neatly folded cloak out of her bag and handed it back to Malfoy, who took it and wrapped it around himself.

"You're...erm..welcome." Draco forced a smile, or perhaps it was real; Hermione couldn't tell.

Hermione brushed past him and left the classroom.

Snape emerged from behind his desk and gave Draco a look that could kill. "Explain yourself."

Draco stuttered. "I..I was just repaying her for an essay I made her write for one..one of my classes. And...and for her helping me in the hallway." Draco's knees trembled as he turned and jogged out the door. He face-palmed as soon as he left the room. 'Why did I say that?'

Snape's mouth opened slightly as he stared at the spot where Draco had been previously standing. He glided to his desk in one swift motion, and took out a piece of parchment, and a quill.

He dipped the quill in the ink well next to him, and began to write:

"Dear Lucius..."


	7. Chapter 7: Red Suits You, Draco

Desrosiers: I think you guys may like this chapter...Draco let's out his angst. Enjooyyy! And thank you to all my reviewers, I'm glad you're enjoying the story! Now, as promised, the seventh chappie.

A/N: Draco's middle name is not Marcellius. I just added it in, because we never found out what it was.

A Smirk is Worth a Thousand Words - Chapter 7: Red Suits You, Draco  
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Sitting at the Slytherin House table, Draco twirled his fork in between his hands.

When was this going to end? Ok, rhetorical question. He knew when this was going to end: When he got Hermione to the dance with him.

He sighed heavily, and let his fork drop from his hands, landing with a clatter on his plate. Only a few slytherins turned to see what had caused the noise, because the others were too engaged in their own pitiful conversations about stone muffins.

Something interrupted Draco's "deep" thoughts. The clatter of wings and parcels dropping indicated that this morning's mail had arrived.

Draco shifted his eyes up towards the owls, but he did not move his head. When he looked back down to the table, his eagle owl had dropped a crimson envelope.

Draco's eyes bulged from his head like pickled onions. It didn't take long for the rest of the Slytherin table to realize; Draco Malfoy had just received a howler. Whispers flooded the table, as Draco sat motionless, his jaw nearly hitting the floor.

Draco Malfoy had gotten a howler. The Draco Malfoy did NOT get howlers. The Draco Malfoy has got to stop talking in third person.

Alarmed, Draco snatched up the dark crimson envelope and rushed to the doors, hoping he would be able to make it out before the howler exploded with his father's booming voice.

Draco knew what this was about. And he knew very well who had tipped his father off. He suddenly felt himself loosing respect for his potions master by the minute. This mudblood was destroying his life.

Almost 4 feet away from the doors to the entrance hall, Draco felt the howler start to scorch his hand. He gasped and dropped it abruptly, and skidded to a halt.

"DRACO MARCELLIUS MALFOY! HOW DARE YOU DISGRACE THE MALFOY NAME IN THAT MANNER! ASSOCIATING WITH...THAT..THAT THING!!"

"Marcellius?" Ron snickered. "Draco Marcellius Malfoy, The Amazing Boucning Ferret! I like it even better!"

Harry gave a hearty laugh and high fived Ron, whilst Hermione sat at the table, following Draco's every move.

His father's angry voice boomed throughout the hall, and it seemed everyone was hanging on the howlers every word. And laughing at it.

"IF IT WERE UP TO ME, YOU'D BE HUNG BY YOUR TOES AND WHIPPED UNTIL THE NAME MUBLOOD RETURNS TO YOUR VOCABULARY!"

Right then and there, Hermione knew what this was about. She buried her face in her hands, praying that Lucius did say her name. Pssht. Why would he?

Draco started to back up, stumbling over his feet and falling with a soft thump. The laughter in the hall got louder, as Draco's eyes grew wider.

"I DON'T EVER, EVER WANT TO HEAR OF YOU ASSOCIATING WITH ANYTHING OF THAT MUDBLOOD'S SORT, DO YOU UNDERSTAND!!?"

Draco's skin tone now resembled that of the crimson envelope, as he scampered towards the hall doors, and getting to his feet, burst through the doors and didn't stop running until he reached his dorm.

"THIS MUDBLOOD IS RUINING MY LIFE!!!" Draco boomed as soon as arrived in his room. Draco punched the nearest wall with all his might, causing his knuckles to bleed. The pain wasn't even close enough to the emotional stress he was going through.

Draco threw himself on his bed, and positioned the pillow in front of him, imaging it to have Hermione's face on it.

"WHY, WHY, WHY, WHY?!" Draco punched his pillow as hard as he could, repetitively spilling blood all over the pillowcase. "WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME?!"

Draco seized the bloody pillow and chucked it as hard as he could towards his dorm room door, just as Blaise Zabini walked in.

"Erm..is this a bad ti--"

"GET OUT!!" Draco boomed, rattling the portraits of baywatch women on his wall.

Blaise frantically backed out of the door and onto the staircase, succeeding in falling down each and every step.

Draco could hear him falling for at least a minute, yelling out curse words occasionally. Suddenly, the thumping stopped, and was replaced with the shrill shriek of Pansy Parkinson.

"You pervert!" She screamed. Following her screech came a loud slap, and a grunt from Blaise.

Draco gave a dull smirk, but the enthusiasm wasn't there as it usually was. If he had to miserable, everyone else did too.

Sighing loudly, he flopped down on his bed.

What was going to happen to him when he went home for summer?

Draco let out a whimper, remembering what his father had said about hanging him from his toes.

There was a faint knock at the door, but Draco ignored it, being too tired to even bother yelling at them to go away.

With that, Nott crept in the room, and silently tiptoed over to the charmed Weird Sisters poster to greet the members. Unfortunately, he lost his footing on the approach, and stumbled into it.

Loud, screaming music of the Weird Sisters blasted throughout the room and into the common room.

"ARGH!" Draco dove off his bed, slapped the poster with his hand, and shoved Nott out the room.

"Ow! That hurt!" Donaghan squeaked from the poster, rubbing his nose.

Draco paid no attention. Instead, he kicked the wall in anger.

"Ouch, having problems?" Nott said on the other side of the door.

Draco opened the door with one swift motion and chucked a flower vase as hard as he could at Nott.

"Argh!" Nott ducked just in time, but he lost his footing once again, and stumbled down the stairs.

"You pervert!" Draco heard Pansy shriek once again from downstairs. Draco grinned slightly. Why doesn't she just get off the stairs?

After silently chuckling to himself, Draco sat back down on his bed.

He couldn't help but think he must be cursed. What was he going to do? If he didn't go to the dance with Hermione, the school would find out he did ballet, and his father would be embarrassed to call him his son. If he did go with Hermione, his father would still disown him for dating a mudblood, the very thing his father lived to hate.

There was an owl hovering outside his window, and it must have been there for a good 5 minutes before Draco noticed it tapping on the window. He hastily threw himself off his bed and scampered to open the window. His owl was carrying a package in it's beak.

In flew his owl, landing on his bed and dropping the package.

Curious, Draco handled the parcel. What if it was from his dad? What if he was sending him handcuffs to give him a taste of what was coming?

He ripped the brown paper off his little "present" and a piece of parchment fell onto his bed. Draco opened the parchment with caution, and read:

_Dear twinkletoes,_

_Well you're not that dear to me, so scratch that. I thought you might need these to practice for your big debut._

_Happy dancing!_

_Marcus Flint_

Draco ripped open the package, his curiosity burning even more than before. He gasped as something pink dropped to his bed.

Draco Malfoy had received a pair of bright pink ballet slippers.


	8. Chapter 8: Truce

Desrosiers: Hey all! 8th chapter for you, before I have no power. That's right, we have another MASSIVE hurricane on the way, 4 times worse than the last. Hurricane Frances. May not be too many ipdates for a while, so I wanted to post a few chapters before it hits.  
Thanks to all my reviewers, you mean the world to me! Take care.

A Smirk is Worth a Thousand Words - Chapter 8: Truce.  
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Draco had received a pair of bright pink ballet slippers.

Jumping up from his bed, he made sure the door was locked. Draco cast a sound proof spell, and proceeded to walk to his bed, pounding his feet loudly on the floor.

With that, he screamed as loud as he possibly could. He could feel the room vibrating, yet no sound was escaping the tightly sealed room. And it was a good thing too; it was so loud the Ministry probably heard it.

He continued to scream until he had no energy (and no vocal chords) left. He slumped back onto his bed, kicking the slippers off the mattress in anger. First thing tomorrow, he was going to settle this with Flint. Settle it once and for all.

Hermione skipped happily into the Gryffindor common room, clearly having no thoughts on her mind whatsoever, as opposed to Draco.

She breathlessly slammed her hands down onto coffee table, where Ron happened to be making a card castle. Hmph. So much for that now.

"Hermione!" Ron groaned, as his castle fell noiselessly and cards scattered everywhere. "That took me hours!"

"Come on, Ron. Like you have nothing better to do that make pitiful little skeleton houses with pieces of paper?" Hermione huffed. He was not going to ruin her good mood, yet he did notice her huge grin.

"Why so cheery all of a sudden? Has Krum written you another lovey-dovey heart shaped letter?" Ron wasn't even sure if she still kept in touch with the Bulgarian Quidditch Seeker, but right now it was the only defense mechanism he had.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and flopped down in a chair. "For your information, Ronald, I have just been notified by a teacher that the upcoming school dance has been postponed due to that bloody nuisance. Leaving more time to study for exams!"

It was Ron's turn to do the eye rolling. "Crookshanks has gotten a dance postponed? Wow. He's got nothing on Fred and George."

Fred and George, who were huddled in a corner making a model of a joke shop peeped up from their supplies at the hearing of their names, but quickly got back to work.

"I mean Peeves, Ron. Get a grip." Hermione dusted off her robes that now had cat fur on them from the chair. "Apparently he set off a dung bomb in the kitchen's plumbing, and it busted the water mane. The Great Hall is going to be flooded for a good few weeks."

Ron jolted up from his restarted card castle, knocking the first row down. Again. "No breakfast!? No dinner!?"

"Don't be silly Ron. We're ordering food from the Three Broomsticks. They're offering to help out due to the destruction Peeves caused them a few months ago."

"Oh. Well then." Ron sat back down. "Does Harry know? He was planning on asking Lavender."

"Where is he?" Hermione hopped up from the chair.

"Dunno." Ron gave into his cards and stacked them into a neat pile. "I'll tell him if I see him though."

"Thanks. I'm going to go and have a read."

"What? No more studying?"

"I'm reading a textbook, Ronald."

Ron's ears went slightly red. "Oh."

Hermione gave a chuckle and headed up to her dorm.

Entering, she noticed the letter on her bed from the previous morning.

"How could I have not read that yet?" She mumbled to herself, and seized the parchment.

She unrolled it with caution, thinking it to be some sort of joke from Fred. He'd been mailing rattlesnake eggs that actually rattled out to everyone he knew. Mind you, it could have been George.

She glanced at one word on the page, and one word only.

"Truce."

Hermione flipped over the parchment, expecting to see more, but there was nothing.

Confused, Hermione slipped it into her side table draw and sat on the edge of her bed.

'Who could it be from?' She thought. 'I'm not fighting with anyone...Am I?'

Hermione rubbed her temple with her hand. Whoever sent it didn't sign it. Why ask for a truce if you don't know who your adversary is?

She took it back out of her draw and studied it. Whoever sent it had presumably good handwriting. She did notice one thing though. The "T" on the page was written in what looked like blood.

Of course it wasn't, Hermione said to herself. It would have to be red ink. It would have to be someone who wanted to create the appearance that they were tough, when they are using something to substitute that.

A name flashed into her head; a name that she hadn't used for a while; a name that she despised.

But it couldn't be...

I mean, why would he be calling a truce between them? They hate each other. But somewhere deep down in her heart, Hermione was glad that Draco had written her a non-threatening letter for once.

She smiled to herself as she laid the note on her pillow, and went down to the common room. There seemed to be no sign of anyone, even Fred and George had left their huddling corner.

Hermione sighed and exited the room, heading down to the entrance hall. She needed some air. She shoved open the doors and felt the cold air run through her like someone had just put ice down her shirt. She breathed deeply and set off for a long walk around the grounds.

Glancing around, she noticed that the snow was starting to melt. The roses had been stiff in early February, but now wilting with dew. It seemed fresh outside, yet cold at the same time.

Hermione pulled her robes tighter and smiled to herself. This was her favorite time of year. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood because it wasn't so humid outside.

Pulling back to reality, Hermione heard someone calling her name. It was Draco.

"Granger!" Draco yelled in the distance. "Wait up!" He jogged up to her and Hermione turned in time to see the gusts of mist coming from his mouth. Yes, it was that cold.

"...Malfoy?" Hermione folded her arms. "What do you want?"

"Erm...I was wondering...if you had a da--" Draco was cut off by Harry.

"Hermione!" He caught up to her and took a look at Draco. "...What's going on?"

"None of your business, Potter." Draco said hastily.

"What's up Harry?" Hermione asked, ignoring Draco's comment.

"Just wondering where you went. Dinner's arrived from Hogsmeade. Care to join Ron and I?" Harry held out his arm as if escorting someone to a grand ball, which Hermione accepted gratefully. 'Anything to get away from this awkward moment,' she kept thinking.

Draco suddenly lost his posture and slumped off towards the great hall, keeping a great distance between him and Hermione. Not to mention Mr. Thinks he can interrupt a conversation and walk off like it means nothing.

Hermione hesitated for a bit, and looked back a Draco with a solemn look on her face. She wanted to escape the awkward moment right? Then why was she so regretful about leaving Draco standing there? Did deep down feelings for Draco bring up the thought? 'Na...' She reassured herself. 'Feelings for Draco? Yeah right.' But the more she tried to deny it, the more inevitable it became. He seemed like a puppy that had lost it's owner, or maybe he was just changing his ways. Ha, right.

Draco shrugged as she looked back at him, and he smiled to himself.

"Maybe this won't be so bad."


	9. Chapter 9: 7 O'Clock on the dot

Desrosiers: Hello, hello!  
You asked for more D/H action, so here you go. Not much, but it's a start. I promise there's going to be more in the next chapter, but I needed something for filler, and because this chapter was getting too long so I could not add it much else. Hope you enjoy! Look out at the end of the chapter for a preview of the 10th chapter to come!

**A Smirk is Worth a Thousand Words - Chapter 9: 7 O'Clock on the dot.**

Hermione sat positioned at one of the common room tables, the room only being dimly lit by the fire that blazed on the opposite wall.

Staring at her letter from Draco, she sat perplexed. She knew she had to reply, because that was Hermione. Polite, and always prompt.

She turned the parchment over and started to write with hesitance:

_Finally coming to your senses after all these years, Malfoy? It's about time, too._

_I'll agree to a truce if you're actually serious._

Hermione 

Hermione headed down to dinner with the letter neatly tucked underneath her robes.

"'Mione!" Ron yelled from the Gryffindor table as Hermione appeared in the doorway. Hermione smiled and ran over to the table, and took a seat.

"Where've ya been all day?" Harry questioned, swallowing his mouthful of mash potatoes. "Ron's been looking--"

Ron elbowed Harry firmly in the stomach as Harry gave a grunt. But fortunately for Ron, Hermione wasn't even listening. She had her eyes set on someone else. Someone with bleach blonde hair.

------------------------------------------

"No, you idiot." Draco exclaimed, slapping the side of Crabbe's head. "Get your fingers out of my juice!"

"But, you said to stir it..!"

"With a spoon, are you braindead!?" Draco huffed, and poured himself some fresh pumpkin juice. "Honestly....you guys have the intelligence level of peanuts..." Draco mumbled to no one in particular.

Draco looked around the Great Hall for a sign of some humiliation. What's the point of going to dinner if you don't have a show to go with it? But what he saw surprised him. Hermione was looking right in his direction. Not at Crabbe, not at Goyle, but at him. 'Yet again, I doubt she'd be looking at those two oafs when the gorgeous blonde is here...' he thought and gave a smirk.

----------------------------

Hermione nearly choked on her juice.

'Did he just smile at me?' Hermione sat shocked, but Harry and Ron were too self-indulged with their own quidditch conversation. 'Wait? Why do I care?'

Hermione shook her head as if shaking herself out of deep thought, and looked down at her plate, occasionally shifting her gaze to Draco to see if he was still looking in her direction.

He was.

"Ok, so I just walk up to him, and give him my reply, right? No big deal." Hermione repetitively told herself this, but it never made a difference. Once again, Harry and Ron hadn't heard, which right now was a very good thing.

Hermione got up from the table as everyone started to file out of the Great Hall. She headed over to Draco's direction on the opposite side of the gigantic dining room, and took a deep breath.

As him and his cronies got up from the table, Hermione rushed over and shoved the note in his hand. She turned to walk away when she bumped into Harry and Ron.

"What's going on, 'Mione?" Ron asked, glaring at Draco.

"Nothing! Nothing...I was just...Draco, that wasn't for you!" Hermione tried to snatch the note back, but Crabbe was already 'attempting' to read it.

"Fin...fin elly comin to your seens...Malfoy." Crabbe read aloud.

"Give me that." Draco snatched it from his hand. "Haven't I told you Granger, I'm not opening my fanmail base until next week!" He smirked.

"Oh give it a rest, slime." Ron piped up, clenching his fists.

Draco glared at Ron as if to say "another word and I'll stuff your head in your trousers."

"That wasn't even for you, Malfoy. Get over yourself." Hermione said unsurely.

"But...you put it in my hand anyway...?" Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Um..no..I meant for you to take it to the owlery..it's for..it's for.. my aunt! Yeah, it's for my aunt, now if you'll excuse me.." Hermione grabbed for the note but Malfoy pulled his hand back.

"And yet it says Malfoy on it?" Draco laughed and Crabbe and Goyle followed suit.

Draco began to read the note outloud with a touch of joy.

"_Oh Malfoy, even though I'm a worthless mudblood, would you give me the honor of letting me study with you?" _Draco howled with laughter, clearly making up for what the letter actually said. "Oh yeah, this is definitely for your aunt alright..."

"Whoa! Your aunt's name is Malfoy too!?" Crabbe said, clearly enthused.

For a few moments there was silence. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco were all staring at Crabbe.

"Honestly, if you were any thicker, you'd be double glazed window glass." Draco rolled his eyes.

There was a mumble of agreement among Harry, Ron and Hermione. Then silence.

"Did we just...agree on something?" Hermione asked, taking a step back.

Draco looked truly shaken. "No..of course not..." He ran a hand through his bleach blonde hair. "We were...we were just...tell anyone about this and I'll shove this table so far down your throat..."

"Mr. Malfoy!" Professor McGonagall sped over to the gathering and the circle of people parted. "Detention! Tomorrow night, for threatening a student! 6 PM sharp, my office. Don't be late." With that she stormed off in the direction of Snape's office.

Ron and Harry burst with laughter, while Hermione stood there feeling guilty for no reason. For Malfoy.

"You'll pay, Weasel. You too, Potter. Mark my words." Draco stormed off with his cronies on his tale, off into what looked like the way to the dungeons.

Ron and Harry recovered from their laughing fit, and looked at Hermione. "What was all that about?" Ron asked with concern. "Did he threaten you or something?"

"Oh..wow..I'm..I'm tired. I'm going to go to bed. See you!" Hermione sped out the hall and ran up to her dorm.

Ron gave Harry a questioning look. "But it's only 7:00..."

-----------------------------

**Preview of 10th chapter!**

"Ron? Harry?" Hermione called out inside the Quidditch locker room, her voice bouncing off the walls as they echoed back to her. "Are you guys here?"

Hermione glided through the isles of endless lockers with sealer charms on them, and went to the back of the room. "Ron? Are you guys dressed?" Hermione asked timidly, as she covered her eyes and turned the corner. "Is anyone here?" She slowly removed her hand from her eyes, and peered around the room. Nothing but rows of showers, and a few tables which contained fresh, white towels.

She she doubled back and turned the other corner, she found someone she wouldn't expect.

"Draco!?" Hermione hastily covered her eyes, as Draco frantically grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waste. "Hermione!?"

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Take care guys! New chapter coming soon!


	10. Chapter 10: Slippery When Wet

**D**esrosiers: SO SO SO sorry for the delay. Just started high school, lotsa work, but I'm back into the swing of things! I promise there will be more updatage. But for now, enjoy the 10th chappie!

**A Smirk is Worth a Thousand Words – Chapter 10: Slippery When Wet.**

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Whistles came from the crowds in the Great Hall, as Draco spun faster and faster on top of the Slytherin table.

On his tip toes, he twirled and twirled in his pink tutu.

Louder came the whistles and long bursts of laughter from the crowd.

Draco could feel himself getting redder with each spin.

He jumped, and pirouetted across the table. It felt as if someone was controlling him, he couldn't stop dancing. His bright pink ballet shoes tapped the ground with each leap he made. Faster. Louder came the laughing. Draco's face became redder. Then, with one final leap, he fell off the table with a large thump.

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Draco shot up out of his bed, panting furiously.

"What the hell!?" Draco exclaimed, as he jumped out of his bed and ran to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, he could still see his red cheeks. He had even been blushing in his sleep.

Sighing and rubbing his forehead, Draco glanced at the mirror. He could see the reflection of the grandfather clock in his room. 5:43 AM.

Groaning, Draco trudged back to his bed. There was no way he could go back to sleep after that nightmare. No way. He flopped down on his bed, and even though he had been asleep for seven hours, he still felt weary. But he couldn't let his exhaustion get to him. He had to stay awake for classes, or at least for breakfast.

Draco suddenly remembered. Quidditch was today! Face palming, Draco jumped off his bed and walked over to his wardrobe, pulling out his Quidditch Robes.

"I'll kick your butt, Gryffindor."

----------------------

Hermione lightly shut off her alarm clock and sat up in her bed. Stretching, she bounced off her bed happily, and went to her wardrobe. She pulled out her Gryffindor scarf among a few other red and gold accessories, and headed for the bathroom.

"We'll kick your butt, Slytherin."

------------------------

Draco headed down to breakfast in his robes, and took his seat at the Slytherin table. Hermione walked through the Great Hall door shortly after, and took a seat herself.

"I have a few announcements this morning, students, so if you would please quiet down." Dumbledore waited for the hall to slowly grow silent, and then proceeded. "Today, Grffindor," cheers erupted in the hall, "and Slytherin," only the Slytherin table cheered, "will verse in an extravagant Quidditch match. Good luck to both teams, and with that being said, dig in!" Dumbledore smiled warmly and sat down in his massive chair.

"Who do you reckon will win?" Fred asked, his fork full of eggs hovered close to his mouth.

"Gryffindor. Idiot." George slapped Fred lightly on the head, causing his eggs to fall from his fork.

Hermione's eyes wandered over to the Slytherin table, and focused on Draco for a few moments. He didn't look half bad in his robes, she thought. Wait, what? Did I just..ew.

Hermione quickly rose from the table and headed for the quidditch pitch. She had to get away from her thoughts.

As Hermione exited, Ron looked at Harry. "What's up with her lately? I mean, she barely ever talks anymore, and that whole thing with Malfoy yesterday..."

"I dunno..." Harry stated, nonchalantly, but in his mind he was thinking something completely different. Malfoy weird. Hermione weird. Malfoy wants girl help. Hermione gives Malfoy note. It doesn't take much to put two and two together. Na..no way. Hermione and Malfoy? Harry huffed and continued eating his bacon. But something deep inside of him kept pulling at the thought of Draco and Hermione.

Hermione ran onto the quidditch pitch, where Madame Hooch was dragging the trunk onto the field. "Out a bit early, aren't you dear?" Madame Hooch ceased pulling the trunk and walked over to Hermione.

"Oh, you know. I have to join in the excitement." Hermione shrugged.

"Well, you can go ahead and have a seat in the stands. The match is due to start in 5 minutes anyway." Madame Hooch smiled kindly and went back to pick up the trunk.

Hermione walked away silently, towards the stands that seemed to reach to the sky. If only.

She sat down in the Gryffindor section, and stared in deep thought at the many kids slowly filing onto the pitch. Among them, Neville and Seamus were waving frantically at her, as if hailing a muggle taxi. The wrong way.

Hermione smiled, and gestured them over.

"What's up?" Neville asked in a worried tone as he and Seamus took a seat by Hermione. "I see you've beat us to the match!"

"Oh. Heh. So..."

"So...What's up?" Seamus asked.

"Hm."

Seamus gave a tired look at Neville. She just wasn't going to talk.

"Oh look! A flying pig!" Seamus yelled, to try and get her attention.

"Neat."

"Geez, 'Mione, when did you get all monosyllabic? Oh..oh you like that big word. Oh yeah! Score for Finnigan!" Seamus shouted, laughing.

Hermione smiled, but didn't reply. Her voice would have been drowned out by the sound of the teams rushing out onto the field.

-------------

"That was..by far...the coolest match...ever." Neville struggled to catch his breath from all the cheering he has been doing. Gryffindor had won, 210 to 60.

Seamus nodded. "When Ron worked his Wronski Feint, I thought I was going to choke. I mean...Ron...Feint..it was just... wow."

"Party in the common room!" Neville yelled. "Fred n' George will raid the kitchens!"

"I'm in!" Seamus cheered. "Hermione?"

"Oh.. me? Oh, no thanks. I'm going to go and find Ron and Harry, and turn in early."

"But... it's a Friday night!"

"Well, I have to go and see them. I may join in later." She smiled.

Leaving it at that, Seamus and Neville gave her a slap on the shoulder and ran off towards the castle.

Sighing, Hermione made her way to the Quidditch locker rooms, and sat on a bench outside.

20 minutes later, she had seen every person in Gryffindor come out of the room except Ron and Harry.

She heaved herself up, and entered the locker room.

"Ron? Harry?" Hermione called out inside the Quidditch locker room, her voice bouncing off the walls as they echoed back to her. "Are you guys here?"

Hermione glided through the isles of endless lockers with sealer charms on them, and went to the back of the room. "Ron? Are you guys dressed?" Hermione asked timidly, as she covered her eyes and turned the corner. "Is anyone here?" She slowly removed her hand from her eyes, and peered around the room. Nothing but rows of showers, and a few tables which contained fresh, white towels.

She doubled back and turned the other corner, she found someone she wouldn't expect.

"Draco!?" Hermione hastily covered her eyes, as Draco frantically grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. "Hermione!?

"Oh my God, I'm SO sorry." Hermione turned away and headed for the door.

"And you should be! Sneaking up on a guy like that, in a BOY'S locker room!" Draco made sure the towel was tightly tied around his wet torso (A/N: Hehehehe.), and looked at Hermione.

"Hand me a towel." Draco ordered.

Hermione huffed, but it was the least she could do. She grabbed a fluffy white towel from the table next to her and threw it at Draco, still trying to not stare.

"Well, I called! No one answered! Is it my fault you're deaf!?" Hermione snapped back, trying to look at his face, and not his...body. (A/N: Fun fun fun. ;; )

"You shouldn't even be in here, mudblood!"

Hermione could feel her face burning, and tears of anger starting to swell up in her eyes. Draco continued.

"Is it some deranged pass time of yours to come into boy's locker rooms, wait until their naked, and give them a heart attack!?"

"I told you! I didn't know anyone was in here!" Hermione was clenching her fists. "No, I don't have to put up with this." Hermione turned to leave, and as her heel ground the wet floor beneath her, she slipped.

Grabbing Draco's arm trying to steady herself, she plunged to the floor, lacking grace, and pulled Draco down ontop of her.

The moment seemed like something you would see in a love tale. But this wasn't a love tale. It was reality. A twisted, Romeo and Juliet, sophisticated, magical reality.

Staring into each others eyes, they lay motionless, only moving to breathe.

Draco's bare, wet chest pressed against Hermione, as her breath came out haggard, and shuddered. Hermione's hands had somehow found Draco's shoulders, as she felt his soft smooth skin run beneath her fingertips. Hermione blinked, and found herself coming back to reality.

"Erm.." Hermione mumbled. "Draco...can you..erm...get off? Please?"

"What? Oh! Oh, right. Yeah, sure." Draco supported himself with one hand on the floor, while holding his towel with the other. He pushed himself off the ground, and helped Hermione up.

"I..um.." Draco stumbled. "You..erm..falling..tripped...caught..floor.."

Hermione gave a small grin, but hardly noticeable if you weren't waiting for it. "I won't say anything if you won't."

"..deal." Draco held out his hand for Hermione to shake, but Hermione was already running out the door.

In that one infinite moment, Hermione's feelings for Draco seemed to shift dramatically. That one infinite moment, though, could ruin her entire life, and Draco's entire reputation. Somehow, somewhat, Hermione just didn't seemed to care about the risks anymore. She was oblivious to it all.


	11. Chapter 11: Why's your breath green?

I'm so sorry I took to long. Christmas shopping, cleaning, schoolwork, I have exams coming up...Actually all that is a lie. I've just been lazy. I'm almost done with the 12 chapter so it will be up by Christmas. I'm making it about 6 pages long. Yeah. Enjoy! Review kindly, and SO much love to my reviewers. MERRY XMAS! Or anything you celebrate!

**A Smirk is Worth a Thousand Words - Chapter 11: Why's your breath green?**

Harry burst through the Gryffindor common room portrait in a swirl of black robes.

"Harry!" Ron moaned, as his four-foot tall card tower crashed to the floor in a pile of rubble.

Harry didn't even look up. He just led himself straight to fire, and flopped down in a comfy armchair.

"Harry?"

Harry mumbled something incomprehensible.

"Harryyy?" Ron abandoned his cards and walked over to him.

* * *

Hermione laughed as her breathe game out purple against the cold winter sky. Fred and George had a new product in store, "Bright Breath." It's chewing gum that turns your breath miraculous colors when the air is cold. Or so they say.

Hermione tightened her coat and sat down on the damp snow. She fumbled about with a packet, and pulled out another piece of Fred and George's gum.She sighed, and let herself fall back to the fluffy white ice. Winter was great.

Just as she was dozing off, she heard a set of footsteps crunching up behind her in the snow.

* * *

"Come on, Harry." Ron waved his hand in front of Harry's face. "Out with it!"

Harry silently pushed his arm away gently, and sank even deeper in the couch.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Bet I would." Rom grumbled, and folded his arms. "Well, if that's the way you want to be about it…" He huffed and stomped up to the dormitory.

"Ron! Ron, come down! Come on…" Harry sighed. "You have got to be kidding me."

Ron seemed to be waiting for Harry to call after him, because he ran down the stairs as soon as he had gotten up to the top.

* * *

Hermione's eyes fluttered open and met with a pair of ice blue ones, sheathed in blonde hair.

"Hey." Malfoy said quietly, taking a seat beside her.

"Erm.."

"Look, I know what happened earlier was awkward, but we agreed not to talk about it anymore." Draco's eyes left Hermione's and made home to the ground.

"Yeah, of course." Hermione took note of how sincere his voice was. And how gorgeous his eyes were. And how masculine his broad, bare shoulders were when they were sandwiched together on the --- focus. Must focus. You don't like him. At all. Maybe just a little. No. No no no.

"Hermione..?"

"Hm."

"I know…I know that you hate me---"

"I don't hate you."

"What? But you---"

"No, I don't hate you. I just severely dislike you." Hermione laughed.

"Oh."

"I was kidding…"

"So you'd call us friends?"

"Well, I wouldn't say friends, but if you keep this sort of façade going, I'm bound to think better of you."

"Really?"

"What's this about, Draco?"

"Nothing." And it was true. This was just nothing right? A stupid bet with friends. Well, not really friends, but you know. He couldn't possibly…like her?! No. No way. Maybe. Maybe a little. Argh.

Hermione fell silent, feeling the need to shut her mouth all of a sudden.

Draco sighed. "It's nothing." He heaved himself up with a grunt and began to stride away.

"Wait, you know what? It's not nothing." Draco said quietly, just so only Hermione could hear. "It's definitely something."

He slowly turned around and walked towards her, and held out his hand.

She gave him a skeptical look, but accepted, and he pulled her off the ground.

"It's definitely something." He repeated these last words, as he leaned in to her freckled face slowly, painfully slowly, his toned arm on her shoulder, and he planted to tender, warm kiss on her cheek. He was surprised to see that Hermione didn't jerk away or yell, "Oh my Gawd, you bastard!" and give him a shiner. In truth, she was enjoying it.

Harry had been walking back to the castle from Hagrid's hut when he saw it. He hid behind a tree and watched a smile spread across both their faces, as Draco whispered something in her ear, and she nodded in acceptance.

"So you'll go?" Draco asked, smiling.

"I suppose…" Hermione tried to keep from smiling, but she gave in and let her pearly whites shine. "It's not like I had anyone to go with or anything…."

"Great." Draco flicked his hair back. "Why is your breath green?"

"Oh..erm. Bad dinner last night. You know, onions, liver, the works."

"We had turkey last night.."

"Right. Yeah, um. See ya tomorrow?"

"Sure thing." Draco squeezed her hand, and strode off towards the castle before any of the slytherins could see him.

Harry waited until they both were out of seeing distance, and ran as fast as he could to the castle.

* * *

Harry was still considering whether he should tell Ron or not. But now that he had him downstairs and eager to hear something, he would need to make something up.

"So what's up?" Ron asked, scratching the back of his neck.

I..Um..you..car..Hedwig..dead…no..I heard that Dumbledore was..erm.."

"Spit it out, Harry!"

"Dumbledore's car died!"

"What?"

"What?" Harry questioned.

"You just---"

"I'm tired, are you tired?"

"Not really…"

"Too bad. Go to bed." Harry ran up to his dorm and shut himself in the bathroom until her heard Ron's snoring die down and the rustling of the bed stop, which meant Ron was fast asleep.


	12. Chapter 12: Men of their Word

**Desrosiers**: I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am for not updating. I could say I've been busy, or I'm going through a rough time, but I'd be lying. grin So, all I can say is I'm sorry. I lost inspiration for a while, and tried out many different writing styles to pass the time during my hopefully short-term writers block. New chapter coming soon, I promise! Yes yes, I know, my promises are rubbish. But I will!

Psst. After I'm done with this story, I'm going to go through and edit out the entire thing. I know I've made some mistakes through all of this, and my writing could be better. So, chyah.

**Chapter 12: Men of their Word.**

Harry awoke to the glare of sunlight shining through the window on the south wall. He groaned, and buried himself in the covers. He had never been a hard person to wake up, but today, he knew that Ron would be completely suspicious of what happened the previous night.

He turned over inconspicuously to check if Ron was awake. He was fast asleep, clutching his pillow and his head was bent on the mattress. Aw.

Harry slowly peeled back his covers, and slid out of bed, praying that the floorboards wouldn't creak.

He was halfway to the door when---

"GOOD MORNING HARRY POTTER!"

Harry gasped and jumped straight up in the air, falling back onto the floor in a heap of limbs. "What the hell?" He suddenly remembered that he had bewitched his lamp to wake him up in the morning, clutching his hand to his chest.

Holding his breath, Harry looked in Ron's direction, hoping the noise hadn't awoken him. Ron stirred, but to Harry's relief, he just turned over and resumed his sleep. That boy could sleep through a bomb. Harry sighed, and crept out the room and down to the main common room.

Half to his relief, and half to his disappointment, Harry found Hermione fast asleep on the couch as he approached the fire.

He lightly shook her by the shoulders as he rounded the sofa, and took a seat while she woke up.

"Rough night?" Harry said, unable to look at her.

"What? Oh. Oh, real rough. Yeah."

"Hm." Harry got up and left the common room without a word.

* * *

"So do you have a date to that dance yet?" Harry half-mindedly asked Seamus at breakfast.

"No. Not a woman will listen to what I have to say." Seamus banged his fist down on the table in anger, rattling the knives and forks on student's plates. "I care too, ya know!"

Harry sighed. "Tell me about it." He murmured. "I mean, I have a friend who's been keeping a secret from me for God knows how long, and I hadn't the slightest clue. I found out the hard way."

"Life sucks when you're a guy." Seamus sighed.

"It does," replied Harry, nostalgically.

* * *

Hermione rubbed the sleep out of her eyes on reflex, and stumbled upstairs to the bathroom.

_What's with Harry this morning? Very monosyllabic. _

Hermione quickly undressed, unable to stop herself from shivering with the cold Hogwarts air, and stepped into the shower.

_I mean, why ask how I was if he wasn't going to stick around and listen?_

She ran her hands through her hair, trying to dampen it up before applying her shampoo. The warm water was comforting, in an odd sort of way.

Suddenly, as she was dumping the contents of her shampoo bottle onto her already pruning hand, her thoughts drifted to Draco.

_What was that about yesterday? Why did I agree to go with him?_

But as she finished up washing, and exited the heated atmosphere of the shower stall, she knew very well why she agreed. Very well, indeed.

* * *

It was hard for Harry to even ask to copy Hermione's notes in Herbologhy. He wasn't sure exactly why, but whatever it was, and whatever it was that was going on between her and Draco, he could not mention it to Ron. Not yet.

By the time class ended, Harry was physically and emotionally drained from his own thoughts, and the massive man eating slug things eating the plants in front of him.

Dinner in the Great Hall was awkward, if not more than Herbology. Hermione kept casting glances his way, and then returning her gaze to her plate of kidney pie. Harry looked down at his own plate, and the wonderous, hot meal he had previously seen really didn't look that appetizing anymore.

It was only when Ron brought up a question about Harry's old quidditch captain, Oliver Wood, that he regained his speech.

"I hear Puddlemere is going to Cup Finals!" Ron said happily, chomping down on a garlic roll that had only five seconds before appeared at the table.

"Great."

"I thought you'd be more enthusiastic.."

"Yeah, well…"

Ron made no attempt to save the conversation as it went quiet between them. He just gave Harry a weary look and continued eating his dinner.

Harry was grateful for the silence and welcomed it with open arms. He never thought he'd say this but he wanted out of Hogwarts. Out of the drama. Out of the tension. Just, out of here. He just needed a day away. He knew if he did end up leaving Hogwarts, (which would never happen!) he would have no place to go, no food to eat, no one to talk to, and most of all, no way to keep in contact with the ministry and the order. Maybe he just wanted out, temporarily of course.

Harry rose from the table to leave, and it that instant, Draco came pretty much out of nowhere, and grabbed his collar.

"A word, Potter."

Draco gave Harry no time to respond, and dragged him out Great Hall. So much for getting away.

As soon as they were a good enough distance away from the doors, Draco stopped and slowly backed Harry into the wall.

"You remember a while back when I asked for your assistance?" Draco said grudgingly.

Harry raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly. What now?

"Well…you said you couldn't help me unless I gave you a name, correct?"

"Mhmm…."

"Yeah, well. I'm thinking of asking…" Draco paused for a few seconds. "I'm thinking of asking----"

Draco was drowned out by an abnormally large booming voice coming from inside the Great Hall. He presumed it to be that nimwit of a headmaster.

"Ladies and gentleman! If I could please have your attention." Dumbledore echoed through the Great Hall as all clatter came to a halt, and all voice ceased at once. Harry and Draco slid back inside the doors.

"It has come to my knowledge that Puddlemere United has made it to cup finals!"

There were a few stray claps here and there from the other tables, but a big uproar from the Gryffindors, on account of their old Quidditch Captain who now plays for said team.

"As many of you may know…" Dumbledore's eyes rested on the Gryffindor table, "A former student, and quidditch captain, might I add, by the name of Oliver Wood," The headmaster had to pause for a few seconds while girls erupted in cheers throughout the entire hall, "Yes yes, settle down. Oliver Wood now plays for Puddlemere. I think we are in need of a celebration!"

Dumbledore clapped twice, and the Puddlemere team colors richly decorated the entire hall, and many cakes, treacles, and tarts appeared fresh on the tables.

"Oh, you've GOT to be kidding me…" Draco huffed from the doorway and rolled his eyes.

Harry suddenly found himself rolling his eyes as well, and soon regretted the swelling of guilt that emerged in his stomach for doing so. He reached down over Ron, grabbed a tart, and gestured for Draco to follow him back outside.

Harry sighed.

"Get it over with."

"Right, right. This is going to sound…unbelievably stupid, ME needing girl advice from YOU, but I can't ask the other slytherins… and--"

"Why not?" Harry crossed his arms.

_Because they're blackmailing me! _

"Erm.. because,I mean, we're slytherins. What do you think?"

Harry seemed unconvinced, but let it go. "Fine. Go on."

"Right, well.. I need to know how… how to be romantic."

Harry scoffed. This was priceless.

"Shut it, Potter."

Harry just smiled widely. "Of course I'll help little drakey-poo become a man! Can I take pictures?"

"That's enough, Potter."

"Oh, please?"

Draco answered this by slamming Harry forcefully against the wall, receiving a loud grunt from Harry in return.

Harry hastily shoved Draco off of him.

"And what makes you think I'm not going to go around school and maybe..let this secret slip to, oh, say… half a dozen people?"

"You wouldn't."

"What makes you so sure?"

In an instant, Draco found his hand clenched around Harry's throat, backing Harry once again into the wall.

"This."

Harry stuggled to pry Malfoy's hand away from his neck, and soon resulted to kicking, all shots of which Draco darted.

After a while, Draco reluctantly removed his hand, and shrugged his robes back in place. Harry let out few low coughs, and sent a piercing glare at him.

"I mean it Potter. Keep quiet." Draco said in an undermining tone.

Harry smiled grimly.

Draco leaned close to Harry's ear, and whispered. "I'm a man of my word Potter."

"Malfoy, stop with the drama. I'll help, fine. I just want to know what's in it for me?"

"Cho. A date to the dance."

Harry smirked. "And what makes you think I can't get one with her on my own?"

"A lot of things, Potter. Take it or leave it."

"Fine."

Draco smiled, but his grin quickly faded when Harry segued into his next statement.

"You never did tell me who this girl worthy of romanticizing was."

"Didn't I? Oh, must have slipped my mind." Draco turned to leave.

It was Harry's turn to slam Draco up against the wall, and boy, did it feel good.

"Alright!" Draco shrieked. "Watch the robes!"

Harry awaited his answer.

"I'm planning on asking He…"

* * *

**A/N: Oh, Oh! CLIFFHANGER! Love me, hate me, just review. k?**


	13. Chapter 13: He Always Gets What He Wants

CCH: Yeah, I'm not even going to bother apologizing because my apologies are rubbish. :P Well, now I've updated and we're back on the road. I'm writing chapter 14 as we speak. There are only about 3 chapters left, so sit tight guys.

**Chapter 13: He Always Gets What He Wants.**

"I'm planning on asking Herbology Professor, Ms. Sprout."

Harry rolled his eyes and loosened his grip on Draco's robes. Why did he ever think Malfoy would tell him? And why was he so interested in the first place?

Draco smirked. "Like I'm going to tell you, Potter."

_Pfft. Read my mind._

Harry half smiled. "So, our deal? I help you.. grow up," Malfoy grimaced at this, "and you help me get a date with Cho."

"Haven't we already settled this? Why are we having this pointless conversation?"

Harry had half a mind to sock him one right then and there, but his teenage desires to go to the dance with a beautiful girl left him standing in his spot. If he could just hold out long enough to confirm his suspicions about Malfoy and Hermione…

"Meet me back here tomorrow at 4." It was Harry's turn to walk away.

Draco was left standing outside the great hall as he watched Harry stride off. He knew he was going to have to pay for this later, but it was either losing his reputation at school, or losing his credibility with his father. And since the kids at Hogwarts were the ones he had to spend every waking minute with, Draco would just have to take this chance. Even if it meant getting helped by a Gryffindor and going to a school function with a mudblood all in the same week.

* * *

Harry couldn't believe he was actually helping him. He pondered his decision all the way to the Gryffindor common room, and up the stairs to the boys sleeping quarters. He flopped down on his bed, thankful that the room was empty, and stared up at the ceiling.

Why would Draco need his help on something like this? The most wanted guy in Hogwarts needs Harry's help getting a girl? Draco could get anyone he wanted!

Harry sat up quickly at his thought. Except for Hermione.

* * *

Hermione finished the last bite of her pie and got up from the Great Hall table. She glanced around the hall before she left. Various teachers were scattered around the edges of the hall, starting to prepare for the dance.

The dance! Hermione had completely forgotten. It was in less than a week, and she had agreed to go with Slytherin's foulest. She inwardly groaned at her spur-the-moment thinking. Ron and Harry would be there! She hadn't even considered other people being involved. What would they say? What would they DO?

Just then, Draco came waltzing back into the hall and took a seat at the almost empty Slytherin table. In fact, the whole hall had almost cleared out except for two first years at the Hufflepuff table who were engaging in a violent game of Wizard chess. Hermione remembered when Ron and Harry were that naïve.

She looked over to Draco, who had his head buried in his hands, letting his fingers intertwine with his golden locks. Hermione felt a tinge of pity. Was he regretting asking her? Granted, it would make things a lot easier for the both of them, but she hoped that wasn't the case.

Hermione walked over to where Draco was sitting and quietly sat down in front of him.

"Draco," she eased. Draco jumped at the sound of her voice, and let his hands fall from his head to the table.

"What do you want?" Draco sighed.

Hermione looked taken aback. "I'm just seeing if you're ok."

"Oh, a lot of good that will do, because I'm not."

"Draco, I'm trying---"

"You're trying to what? You're the reason this has happened to me. You're the reason my dad wants to banish me from the entire family tree, and you're the reason I can't concentrate on anything lately!"

"Oh, is that what this is? Am I making your life a living hell all of a sudden? Well, let me make it a little easier on you!" Hermione sprang from the table and ran out of the hall.

"Hermione!" Draco got up quickly and ran after her. "Hermione, I didn't mean it like that!"

Hermione whirled around. "Oh, and what did you mean it as, Malfoy?" Draco took note that she used his last name. "Because frankly, you're sounding as if you're being forced into doing something!"

"I'm not!" Draco sighed. "I'm not."

Hermione walked over to him. "Then what is your problem?"

"YOU!" Draco spat. "YOU'RE my problem! I can't get you out of my mind, and do you have THE SLIGHTEST IDEA what that could do to me?"

"My apologies, Draco. I'm sorry that you don't act on your impulses, and I'm sorry that I cause so much disgrace to your family, but could you just ONCE, ONCE think about how others are feeling!"

"I do, Hermione! That's the point! I can't go on thinking about you like this! I can ruin not only my reputation, but yours!"

"Well, Draco, that's a chance I'm willing to take, and it should be one that you'd take also. But apparently you don't care enough to even get off your ass and do something!"

Hermione turned to run, but Draco grabbed her forearm and spun her around, slamming her into a wall. He hesitated, and then crashed his lips down upon Hermione's. Her eyes widened, but she sank into him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She parted her lips slightly, giving Draco permission to enter her mouth. He explored her skillfully, as he placed a gentle hand on her waist.

As Draco pulled away, breathing hard, Hermione was glad she was up against a wall or else she would have collapsed. She regained her breathing and smiled at him.

He smirked. "You were saying?"

* * *

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed. :) This chapter was fun to write. REVIEW! Please. :P 


	14. Chapter 14: Deadlick

CCH: I actually updated twice in the same month! OMGAWD. Anyway, my birthday was yesterday, so I think you should all leave me lots of reviews. ) Or not. Whatever you want to do. Enjoy! Thanks for your kind reviews on the last chapter.

**Chapter Fourteen: Deadlick.**

"Hermione!"

"Hm?"

"You're not eating!" Harry shoved an empty plate towards her and started to pile on a roll and a few slices of butter.

"I'm not very hungry." She shoved the plate towards Ron.

"Cheers, 'Mione!" He laughed, and went for the roll.

Harry snatched the plate back and plopped it in front of Hermione again.

"Harry.." She moaned. "Why can't you be like any other teenage boy and ignore me?"

Which is what Draco would have done. A week ago. Try as she may, she couldn't get last night from repeating in her head. She just couldn't believe it happened, but she was ashamed she was glad it did.

"Well, at least drink something. We've got potions prep today. Don't you want to be.." Harry said cheerily, clearly mocking her, "ready and steady for the exams?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I do not sound like that."

Ron snorted. "Second opinion? Anyone?" He looked teasingly around the table.

"Ow!" Hermione had jammed her Mary Jane into the bottom of Ron's kneecap. "What wassat for?"

"For being an ignorant pig!" Hermione huffed.

She looked over to the Slytherin table for a slight reassurance that last night wasn't just a fluke. Draco was laughing and messing around with his friends. He looked as if he was planning something, waving his arms about and choking someone. He was enjoying himself completely, but he looked up when he felt her eyes on him. He smiled.

Hermione blushed, tempted to look away.

"Hermione?" Ron looked at her, and then followed her gaze to Draco. "What's that tosspot starin' at?"

Hermione shifted her gaze regrettably to her roll-less plate, now adorned with three slices of butter. She got up from the table and put her hand on Harry's shoulder. He looked up at her, and she pointed to the door. Harry nodded, excused himself, and followed her out.

"Harry, I.."

"Don't worry. I won't say anything." He smiled. He had known from the beginning that something strange was going on between Draco and Hermione, and had had time to come to terms with it. It didn't seem like such a big thing now.

Hermione smiled and threw her arms around Harry.

"So, you're the girl he wanted help with.." He half whispered, clearly talking to himself.

Hermione pulled away. "What?" She giggled.

Harry laughed. "Draco wanted help with some girl. And some girl turns out to be you."

"Draco? Wanted help? From you of all people?"

"Hey, I'm on your side!" He laughed.

Hermione sighed. "Thanks Harry."

"Anytime," he smiled warmly and went to walk back into the hall.

"Oh, and Harry?"

He turned around.

"Don't tell Ron. Please."

Harry immediately understood. He nodded and left her in the foyer.

The gold light of the large room made Hermione's skin look lush and sun kissed. She looked so amazing when the lighting was just right. Draco cleared his throat.

Hermione whirred around in a flash of golden curls to face him. She was momentarily stunned at the sight of him. He wasn't wearing his cloak, a very peculiar sight to see, and had his long button up white shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Draco couldn't read if she was surprised or scared. Probably the latter.

"Hello, stranger." He muttered, stepping closer.

Hermione smiled, uncertain of what Draco would do next. "Hey."

Draco stepped right up to her.

Hermione looked up at him. "Is this… real?" The kiss seemed to prove this enough, but Hermione was never one to rush into something if she wasn't certain it was for the better.

Draco frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Your… affections. Are they sincere?" Hermione looked into his wide blue eyes, searching for an answer.

"I sure as hell hope so." He laughed. Hermione half smiled.

"Awe, come on. Of course they're sincere!" Hermione wanted them to be, so badly, that she would accept anything as an answer. She smiled and leaned into him.

He responded by wrapping his arms gently around her torso. She put her head on his chest.

"Hey Draco?" Hermione mumbled into his shirt.

"Hm?" He looked down at her curiously.

"Is this going to work?"

Draco seemed to know what she was referring to. Them. He sighed. "I don't know. I really don't know."

There was a loud chanting coming from the Great Hall, and Hermione peeked up over Draco's shoulder. "What's going on in there?"

Draco shrugged and they walked to the door.

"GET HIM IN THE BOLLOCKS!"

"GO FOR HIS KNEECAPS!"

"KILL HIM! KILL HIM!"

The Hall was in complete chaos. Crabbe and Goyle had Ron by the throat, bent over a table, and they were doing all kinds of things possible to cause him bodily harm. Arms were flying, punches were rolling, legs were kicking, all in the name of a good fight. Teachers and Aids were frantically rushing to the scene; obviously the fight had just broke out. In one flash, Crabbe and Goyle were slammed to the wall by an invisible shield and Ron was brought to his feet.

"Get him to the Hospital Wing!" McGonagall demanded to a random onlooker belonging to Ravenclaw. Ron was rushed off, passed Hermione, who was unable to say anything for a few minutes. She just watched in shock as Ron was carried down the hall.

Draco had been holding the door open, still actually standing on the threshold. He let the door go and stepped up behind Hermione.

McGonagall noticed his movement. "Mr. Malfoy. My office. IMMEDIATELY."


End file.
